


The Storm

by EyesLikeStorms



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), The Last Jedi
Genre: F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Reylo - Freeform, Reylo fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 13:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13054830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyesLikeStorms/pseuds/EyesLikeStorms
Summary: Rey had come crashing into his life like a tidal wave, like a torrent, and his blood was still rocked by it, pulled toward her like a moon.





	The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this story, please follow me on Tumblr: https://eyeslikestorms.tumblr.com/

_Ben, when I touched your hand, I saw your future_ , she had said.

 _I saw my own face_ , is what she didn't say. _I saw my own hands, my own body, entwined with yours. Together we were two pale beacons in the darkness, our bodies glowing like moonlight._

She ached in the hours between hearing his voice, recalling the low timbre of it that made her body come alive. Strange things happened when her body hummed at the thought of him, shivers that rippled up her limbs, a pang that went straight into the heat at the small of her back and the vertex of her thighs.  

And she had gone to him, packaged like a gift. He gazed down on her, his expression impenetrable, his eyes two depthless obsidians. The ache in her increased at the sight of him, her breath caught in her throat, along with a pulsing that conflicted with her heartbeat.  

 _You're nothing,_ he had said, later, their chests heaving in the aftermath of combat. _But not to me._

There was both a coldness and a fire with him, a sharpness and a burn. Jagged like ice, crystalline and white; rough like volcanic rock, hardened by fire. She wanted to erode the harsh edges, crash down upon him, not to soften, no, never to soften; to strengthen metal, one must pull it from the forge and submerge it in water.

In turn, he made the wildness within her stir and threaten to erupt. The force had brought them together, despite Snoke's manipulations. The universe had bigger plans for them. 

And yet the depths of his blackness made her want to recoil. He'd done the unfathomable, thrown away his own family. It wasn't enough to blame it on Luke's betrayal, although she could imagine the desolation he must have felt, and the pit of it yawned in her, the familiar emptiness and loneliness. He'd had a family, and they had betrayed him. She'd been sold like it was nothing. They'd both been abandoned by their own blood. 

Tendrils of her own darkness reached out to him despite everything, and in the private moments away from the others, she let her heart unwind and surrender to the whims of her body. She pressed her fingertips into her collarbone, her ribs, her knees, seeking her own stability, avoiding the soft areas of her breasts and hips and thighs. The very idea of a tender caress on the dunes of her form created the pressure of tears behind her eyes. 

And when she called out to him silently, a plea emitted only in her mind, across the divide that separated them -- enemy and hero, light and dark -- the force that rippled through the universe sent soundwaves to him that only he could hear. 

She felt him before she saw him, his looming presence in her small chamber. She heard the quick huff of his breath, not unlike hers when she had gone to him on his request.  

This time, he had come to her.

 

* * *

 

 

The future was always blurred around the edges, a hazy vision of color and shadow, like looking through fogged glass. But Rey came crashing into his life like a tidal wave, like a torrent, and his blood was still rocked by it, pulled toward her like a moon. The future had become a clear vision before him, exploding into his mind when their fingers first met.

 _I saw your future, too._  He didn't tell her that it wasn't a future awash in sunlight; it wasn't a rosy picture of joy, but it had felt complete, somehow. It was a future of _purpose_ , beautiful in its own palette of deep reds and blues and greens and blacks. That's what he wanted most from it: the depth of color and emotions, their own unique gradient. 

He had sensed a darkness within her. No, not darkness, he had come to learn; it was something feral, fierce. A storm is neither a curse nor a blessing.

"You shouldn't be here," she said, her voice a husky whisper. "It's dangerous."

 _For you, and for me_ , she didn't say, but he knew she thought it, for her thoughts echoed through his own. 

Her room was small, a modest enclosure with a tiny window, and they stood just a few feet apart. He could hear the others lurking nearby, the heavy footfall of the resistance fighters. A brief pang of longing rippled through him at the thought. In another life, might he have joined them? How easy it would have been to have Rey, then; an easy choice it would be, for her.

But there was no going back from what he'd done, little way toward redemption, and he was tired of playing by their rules. He had meant it when he asked Rey to start a new order alongside him. The resistance operated on its own spectrum of grey, and he didn't want it. 

He wanted Rey's unleashed fury, the guttural cry that had rocked him to his core. He had never felt more powerful than when they had fought in syncopation, their bodies moving together. He had never experienced anything so natural, and he was devoted to it now, the force bond that had made them equals.

Snoke saw them as opposites, but he had known the truth the moment they met: they were too _alike_. Their teachers had failed them both, too frightened by their collective might, and he now reveled in their savage, unbridled power that could tear apart celestial bodies, if they let it.

Rey stood before him, her hair damp and loose around her face. Dressed in a simple robe, not unlike the wrapped garment she favored, he could see the outline of her body, backlit by the feeble light. 

The moonlight caught her eyes; storms brewed in the hazel depths.

When they had first communicated, in the days she spent on the island, her eyes were a constant shade of green. Green like moss and lichen, made more verdant by the ever-present stormclouds lingering overhead. He almost believed she was a creature birthed from the sea: her hair was black and stark against her dewy, ivory skin and the stormy eyes had blazed at him. He dreamed every night about those eyes, and they looked back at him now, wary and uncertain and yielding.

He pulled her to him, away from the beam of moonlight, and found her lips in the darkness. 

She sighed in his arms, a soft noise that made his stomach clench in wanting. Her lips were warm on his, and the warmth spread to his limbs, like he was sinking into a hot bath. The sensation brought additional visions of Rey with him in warm water, the steam cocooning them both, her body slick and hot in his hands.

Distracted by her lips, the thought slipped out, and he knew she could sense it, like he could sense hers in similar moments; perhaps not all the details, but the general outline. 

"Is that how you dream of me?" she said in a hush. "Is that how you want me?"

Before he could respond, she pulled away, and his body reacted instinctively, already bereft at the distance. But she hadn't moved far, just enough to pull the tie loose from her robe, and it fell open, slipping from her shoulders like raindrops sliding down glass. Even in the shadows, her body glowed for him like a candle. 

He felt two simultaneous emotions: his heart swelled at the sight of her beauty, her vulnerability, her trust; and his body tensed in anticipation and desire, overwhelmed by the need to touch her and fill her.  

His vision adjusted to the darkness, and he saw that she stared back at him defiantly, and he was proud of her courage. She didn't cower away from him, but offered herself freely, and he wanted to prostrate himself at her feet.

Instead, he knelt before her, wrapping his arms around her hips. She was deceptively strong for someone so small. Her body was an array of clouds and lightning; soft and inviting curves met taut and sharp edges, and he ran his hands down the length of her torso, feeling the muscles coiled underneath. He was pleased that his touch produced goosebumps everywhere, and he pressed his mouth to her navel. Her knees buckled, but he held her upright, tightening his grip, exploring her with his hands and mouth, reaching upward to identify her shoulderblades, counting the vertebrae of her spine. Next was the ribcage, and he pressed his thumbs on each rib, like activating a series of buttons. Her heart thundered behind the bones, and her hands were in his hair, pulling and gripping for purchase.

He reached for her breasts, flattening his palms against her ribs and moving upward to cup each one. Rey nearly unraveled at this, moaning so loudly that he was sure they'd be found at any moment. But even on his knees he maintained his height, and he placed a hand gently over her mouth, moving the other down to the heat between her legs.

Gently, more gently than he'd ever done anything, he parted through her softness with his index finger. She was hot, so hot, and he suppressed his own moan, once again pressing his lips into her stomach, lapping at her warm skin and pushing his finger inside. He risked a glance upward, and Rey's eyes were shut tight, her body rigid and her thighs clamped around his hand. 

He couldn't bear it; he needed to be _inside_ of her, fully, needed it more than he'd ever needed anything. It had transcended lust, as if the force bond could only be fully awakened if they joined their bodies. She felt it too, he could tell, and he stood. She lifted his shirt over his head, her hands immediately exploring his body. She kissed his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso, pulling him toward her, and he felt her breasts against him, the softness colliding with his ribs. He tilted her chin upward and found her lips again, the kisses now urgent and pleading. 

She trailed her fingers down his stomach and to the buckle of his pants, running a finger underneath the band before undoing the button. He stumbled a bit as she pulled them down, and he kicked them away, now matching her nakedness.

But he had trouble meeting her eyes, plagued with a sudden doubt. Did she want him like he wanted her? Did his body call to hers like hers did, like it had been crafted just for him, to fill the shape of his hands?

"Ben," she said, sensing his uncertainty. "Come to me."

She touched his fingers, emulating the touch that had started it all, and he obeyed. 

He went to her bed and lowered to it, laying flat on his back. She poured over him and climbed atop, her legs straddling his thighs. He was beginning to ache; he was so hard he thought his body had no blood left to continue circulating. But Rey didn't give in quite yet. She kissed a line down his stomach, her soft hair spilling over her shoulders and tickling his skin. She stopped at his erection to wrap her slender fingers around the length of it. The touch sent him reeling; he pressed his head back into the pillow, nearly blinded from the sensation, dying and coming back to life in the moment of the touch.

"Please," he said, and it came out like a croak. At this plea, she looked up at him, her lips moistened and parted in unbridled desire. That look alone brought him to the edge: the blatant want in her eyes, the quick and shallow breaths. He pushed himself to a sitting position, and pulled her legs around his waist, her breasts flattened against his chest. Gently, he lifted her, and in one fluid motion, entered her fully.

For a moment, they didn't move. Her hands clasped his upper arms, and his held tight to her hips. To his surprise, his throat felt thick with emotion. This felt _right_ , this joining of their bodies, and he was moved by her willingness to let it happen. He knew then that, despite whatever came next, he had given himself to her.

She kissed him, and began to rock, back and forth. Waves of pleasure tore through him as she moved astride him, and he felt suddenly beastly, overwhelmed with the sensation of her wrapped around him, hot and wet. She rode him with abandon, and he took in the sight of his wild storm-girl, conjuring the elements to her. Her hair fell in her face, and she tossed her head back, arching into him.

It was enough. He held her tight to him, enveloping her in his arms, and allowed himself to fall apart. She cried out and he didn't care who heard, and he matched her cry with his. The eruption was so all-consuming that he thought he would black out, but he held on, knowing this night with her was brief, and wanting to stay present to savor every moment.

As their breath returned to them, they grew quiet. Rey didn't move, and he was glad; he wanted to stay inside her forever, feel her body against his, her heartbeat a strong and steady pounding. He looked into her eyes, in awe of this powerful force of nature in his arms, her skin dewy and damp from exertion. Words and declarations were on his tongue, threatening to spill out.  

There was a question in her eyes, too, one both fearful and hopeful: _Will you tear apart the universe for me?_

Which response would devastate her more?

But he knew already what his own eyes answered, for the word was already inscribed on his heart: _Yes_.


End file.
